


Home

by WritingRevolutionary



Category: Rent (2005), Rent - Larson
Genre: Angst, Established Relationship, Family, Family Drama, Fluff and Angst, HIV/AIDS, Homophobia, Homophobic Language, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Meet the Family, Post-Canon, Post-Rent, bisexual mark cohen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-20
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-16 23:33:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29583801
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WritingRevolutionary/pseuds/WritingRevolutionary
Summary: Mark is called home due to a family emergency, which turns out to be his Mom wanting to set him up with someone. But he's brought Roger with with him, and when something happens that makes him feel there's no turning back, Mark decides to take the plunge and tell his parents everything.
Relationships: Mark Cohen/Roger Davis
Comments: 2
Kudos: 6





	Home

"Okay, okay Mom", Mark was saying, awkwardly patting his mother's back as he subtly tried to pry himself free from the bone-crushing hug she'd captured him in. He'd sworn he'd never come back to Scarsdale, and yet here he was. At least he'd brought Roger for moral support. God knows what his mother was going to announce. Only the words 'family emergency' had been able to coax him from the city to the sleepy suburbs, and how long Mark was going to stay was highly dependent on the details. Was his grandfather sick, were his parents getting divorced, or was it merely that the dog was dead. Only time would tell. His Mom had been surprisingly cagey. She was also less than impressed to see that Mark had brought company.  
"Mark, honey, this is meant to be family time", she scolded him gently, but firmly.  
"Which is why Roger's here. He's practically family, I've known him for years".  
"He's just your roommate", she whispered through gritted teeth, "and we have a guest".  
"He's my best friend. And what happened to family time?"  
"Oh, this is different. You remember Sarah Goldman? She was in your elementary school class and her mother and I help at the community centre on Friday's together. She's grown into a lovely young woman Mark. Very beautiful. And very intelligent. She's studying pre-med at Columbia. Isn't that something?"  
Alarm bells started going off in Mark's head. "Oh no. No, no, no, no, no, no, no. You are not setting me up with someone. There better still be an emergency or we're leaving right now". He mouthed a 'help' at Roger, who just shrugged and grimaced, and trailed behind him as Mark was dragged by his deceptively strong mother into the dining room, where he was greeted by his father, sister, and Sarah Goldman, who looked almost as uncomfortable as Mark, which was really saying something.  
As they began to eat, Mrs Cohen began her scheme. "So Mark, why don't you ask Sarah how she's finding Columbia?" Cindy snorted.  
"Mom, you don't need to teach me how to make conversation and you don't need to set me up with your friend's daughters", Mark said bitterly. "No offence" he added, to Sarah.  
"None taken".  
"It's just been a while Mark..." his mother persisted, "and I thought..."  
"Well actually I'm seeing someone, if you must know".  
"Yeah right", burst out Cindy before their mother cut in.  
"Oh Mark, that's wonderful! Are you really?"  
"If you're seeing someone then what's her name?" pressed Cindy. Mark glared at her silently.  
"See, he's lying", she said triumphantly.  
The dinner continued in much the same way after that, Mark's mother trying to manufacture conversation, Mark bluntly refusing to give in, and the others around the table suffering the whole or deal with varying ratios of embarrassment to amusement. It was when Roger's beeper went off that the conversation turned, and ultimately dissolved.

"Sorry, AZT break", Roger said, turning it off and taking one of his pills. "Mark", he whispered. Mark didn't hear him, so he elbowed him in the ribs. "Marky, AZT", he prompted.  
"Shit", Mark said, ignoring the reprimand from his mother for swearing, and taking out his own pills. "I keep forgetting".  
"I know. Whatever would you do without me?" Roger said dryly, ruffling Mark's hair. Mark usually told him off for his dark, self-deprecating humour, but this time he laughed, in spite of himself. Then he noticed the panic in his mother's eyes.  
"What are you taking?" she demanded. "What's wrong, are you sick. Mark, tell me you're okay".  
"I'm fine Mom, relax".  
"AZT did you say? Isn't that a cancer drug? I'm sure they gave that to my mother when she was sick. Oh god, tell me that's not what it is".  
"Oh, it's not used for cancer anymore Mrs Cohen", Sarah spoke up, "They use it now to treat..." the words died on her lips as she caught Mark's eye in a moment of understanding.  
"What?", urged Mrs Cohen.  
"Oh? Oh, um, nothing. I forgot".  
Mark took a deep breath. After this he probably really would never have to set foot in Scarsdale again. It was almost a blessing in disguise. Almost.  
"HIV, Mom", he said. "They use it to treat HIV". It seemed he'd stunned the whole table into silence. But, as always, his mother eventually found her voice.  
"But...but...but that can't be", she stuttered. "That's...well that's AIDS, that's infectious. You hugged me, you wouldn't have done that if you were infectious", she babbled.  
"He's not infectious", Roger cut in, breaking into the spiel he'd got so used to over the years, "Well, not to you, not to anyone really. It doesn't travel through the air, or through touch, and no, surprise surprise you can't get it through toilet seats, or sharing glasses, or kissing or breathing the same air or being in the same fucking room". Mark's family just gazed at him. "You can only get it through blood and semen and all that jazz", Roger concluded.  
"Transfusions", Mrs Cohen suddenly spoke up, "were you ill, did something happen, I've heard of people getting it through transfusions", she continued, either not seeing or refusing to see all of what Mark was trying to tell her, the conclusion he was trying to encourage her to reach without having to say anything, "They don't test the blood properly you know..."  
"What? No, Mom, I haven't..."  
"No, Marky got it the good old fashioned way", Roger grinned into his drink as Mark glared at him. It seemed that Mark's Dad had had enough too.  
"Mark, what the hell have you been doing?"  
"More like who has he..." snorted Roger, before he was abruptly cut off by Mark kicking him in the shin. "Ow, screw you!" he said playfully, still holding back laughter. Mark just rolled his eyes, somewhat fondly, before addressing his Dad's question.  
"Nothing, okay!"  
"Mark..."  
"Well I'm not gonna spell it out!" Mark said indignantly.  
"Oh no? Well you've certainly got some explaining to to. Look at the state your mother's in, what are we going to do, what are we going to tell people?"  
"Tell them whatever the fuck you like!"  
"You will not speak to me like that and you will explain yourself".  
"I'm not a child anymore.."  
"Mark!"  
"Roger!" Mark blurted out.  
"Wow, way to throw me under the bus Marky." Mark looked around wildly.  
"What? No, I mean, fuck..." he took a deep breath and composed himself as best he could.  
"I'm bisexual", he began, "and Roger is my boyfriend. That's why I didn't give you a name before", he said halfheartedly to Cindy.  
"Bisexual? Is this for real? The way I see it you're a fag, plain and simple, whatever you decide to call it, and those pills are the proof". Mark clenched his hands into fists under the table.  
"So you...", began Mrs Cohen, "he..." she gestured to Roger helplessly, "he's how..." her eyes widened, allowing herself to understand at last, "You..." she addressed Roger accusatorily.  
"It was an accident", Mark cut in hurriedly, "Roger would never hurt me, never."  
"And yet here you are", his father said cruelly.  
"I didn't..." Roger began, but he was cut off.  
"You should go now", said Mr Cohen, eerily calmly.  
"You can't blame him!" Mark cried, "It's not like I went into this blind, I knew and I didn't care, I don't care, because it's Roger, so blame society for not giving a fuck about AIDS, blame the government for not finding a cure, don't blame him for loving me, blame me for falling in love with him!"  
"Oh I do blame you", said his father coldly. "And if you think you're in love you're dumber than I thought. Or just willfully ignorant and frankly I don't know which is worse. Well now you've got yourself into a mess no-one can get you out of and it's no-one's fault but your own. You won't tarnish us with it. Your lifestyle or your disease. You can leave now".  
Mark just sat, simmering slowly with rage that was cooling down from the boiling point he'd reached, feeling as though he'd crashed suddenly, having been being shut down by his father's disarming coolness before he was really able to get stuck into the argument that part of him had been craving. Now he had time for thinking. And thinking had a way of making things like leaving his parents home for good hurt a lot more than anticipated, no matter how necessary.

"Mom..." Mark began at last, not wanting to leave her as she was, face blotchy from crying, lips tight and eyes that were filled with tears, not daring to even look at him.  
"Your father's right", she whispered. "You'd better go".  
It was Roger who stood up first, and began to scratch at the nape of Mark's neck, who was still sitting in shock, attempting to be comforting.  
"Come on Marky", he whispered. Mark stood up slowly, and allowed Roger to lead him out by the hand. After a moment or so he stopped, and turned towards his parents.  
"Was there really an emergency? Is everyone okay, should I...?"  
"I don't think it's any concern of yours now, do you?" said his father coldly.  
"Of course not. My mistake.” Mark responded shortly. As soon as they were outside Roger wrapped his arms around Mark, who buried his face in Roger's neck.  
"I didn't expect him to act like that", Mark said eventually. "I expected more shouting. Somehow I think this was worse". Roger kissed his forehead.  
"I'm so sorry", he said quietly. "For everything".  
"I know", said Mark. "And I also know that you know that I keep telling you you don't have to be. And you know what?"  
"What?"  
"That was actually kind of liberating".  
"Yeah?" Roger grinned at him, and Mark smiled back.  
"Yeah! I don't think I've ever sworn in front of my parents before, and now I have like a gazillion times". He began to laugh through a few tears he couldn't quite hold back. "I just wish we'd made out in front of them now".  
"I mean, we could always break in and do that".  
"Nah", Mark said, "let's just go home".  
"This isn't home to you?"  
"This was never home and you know it. NYC is home. The big city. And you. Even the city wouldn't feel like home without you".  
"Aww", Roger cooed melodramatically before Mark playfully thwacked him in the arm. "Alright, alright", Roger conceded, "Home it is".  
And that was that.


End file.
